


be still, my beating heart

by Tazmaster



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Gift Giving, Love Confessions, M/M, Oblivious Bucky Barnes, Pining, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 23:46:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19239529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tazmaster/pseuds/Tazmaster
Summary: It's been months, painfully irritating months that is. Bucky doesn't know what he and Sam are. Not committed enough to call it a relationship, but too close to call it just a friendship.They both never put themselves out into the dating scene. Bucky knew his side of the story, of course, but Sam never talked about things like that.---Bucky doesn't know how to tell Sam that he loves him, but someone else beats him to the punch.





	be still, my beating heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winterfalconwarrior](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterfalconwarrior/gifts), [buckit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckit/gifts).



> this fic is dedicated to meret and mak, for being great friends and help. i hope this can cheer you up!

Sam smiles at Bucky from the glossy pages of the magazine cover, bright and beautiful. The photo of him could never really compare to how it feels to truly be smiled at by Sam Wilson, but he still enjoys it all the same.

Ever since Sam became Captain America, the media has been eating it up, for better or for worse. Bucky can’t go anywhere without seeing something about Sam. His presence is on full blast everywhere he goes.

It’s comforting.

Bucky would never admit this out loud. They share an apartment together, so he sees Sam everyday, but there is something about it--- the idea that the world loves Sam in the same way that he does… That is what’s comforting.

Bucky smiles to himself before putting the magazine back, then suddenly he can’t help but frown.

If there was a way that Bucky could tell Sam that he loves him, one that wasn't so isolating and awkward, he thinks that he would do so.

A way that didn't require pulling Bucky's heart out of his chest and holding it out to Sam, all bloody and beaten in his hands and asking, "Please take this."

And that didn't require having to feel the moment of silence that he knows Sam will take before he answers, before he decides whether or not to receive Bucky's heart.

In Bucky’s fantasy, he hopes Sam would say yes, because putting it back in his chest would not be an easy task. It would definitely take some time to heal, but in Sam's hands it would beat happy and healthy. Right where it should be.

Atleast, that's where he hopes it should be.

So instead, Bucky continues to try and think of a different way to tell Sam he loves him, without all of _that_.

When Bucky gets home from the store, Sam isn't there. Probably stuck somewhere in a meeting. If Sam was going on a mission, he'd always be sure to tell Bucky where he'd be going and for how long.

Bucky hates those days and like an idiot, he wonders if Sam hates them too.

He sets the groceries on the kitchen table, along with a bouquet of flowers. They weren't necessarily _for_ Sam (at least that's what he told himself), but if Sam appreciated them then that was just an added bonus.

He moves to start putting away the groceries, kneeling down in front of the now open fridge, when he hears their front door unlock.

"Bucky, you here?" Sam calls out.

Bucky pokes his head up from the fridge. "Over here, sweetheart." He calls back.

'Sweetheart' wasn't a new development. Bucky used to say it just to annoy Sam, but it quickly became natural for them both. They've never talked or questioned it since then.

Bucky always held onto it as a hope for something more.

"Need any help?" He hears over his shoulder. Bucky shakes his head.

"Don't worry about it. I'll make dinner soon." He puts an egg carton next to a container of leftovers. Sam shuffles behind him, followed by the creak of the cupboards.

"It's not your turn today though, is it?"

Bucky knows it's not, but he shrugs anyway. "Hell if I remember."

He hears the crunch of plastic. "These are nice. What's the occasion?"

Bucky feels his face grow hot, thankful for the cool air from the fridge. "Uh--- just thought they'd suit the kitchen."

"White chrysanthemums?"

Bucky definitely did not stop at a florist and pick up Sam's favorite flowers. That would be ridiculous.

He gets up from the fridge, closing it and wading up the plastic bags. "So that's what those are."

Bucky finally takes a look at Sam. He looks _tired_ , eyes cast low. His lips are pulled into a smirk, completely unconvinced.

"This is sweet, really. Thank you, Bucky."

"Yeah." Is all he can reply with. His heart is beating so fast he's afraid it'll jump out of his mouth. Quickly, Bucky starts to work on making dinner, hoping it'll calm him down.

Sam heads into his room, leaving Bucky in the kitchen. Bucky turns to see the bouquet is missing. When he hears the shower start, he lets out a long sigh.

It's been months, painfully irritating months that is. Bucky doesn't know what he and Sam are. Not committed enough to call it a relationship, but too close to call it just a friendship.

They both never put themselves out into the dating scene. Bucky knew his side of the story, of course, but Sam never talked about things like that.

Bucky tries not to sit on speculation for too long.

Instead, he occupies himself with the steak he's searing and the green beans he's sauteing. Cooking keeps him distracted until the sounds from the shower stop.

When he's plating their dinner, Sam walks back into the kitchen wearing a t-shirt and shorts. He sits down, rubbing his eyes.

"Well, you look lively." Bucky says, placing his dinner in front of him. He grabs two water bottles, putting them on the table with the silverware. Then, he turns to place the dishes into the sink to wash later. Bucky takes his own plate and sits across from Sam.

"Hilarious." Sam deadpans, digging his fork into his green beans.

"I take it that things aren't going too well on your end." Bucky takes a bite of his steak.

"It's not that." Sam shakes his head. "It's just _exhausting_ having to be everywhere at once. Everyone wants Captain America for a photoshoot or an interview or a meet-and-greet like---" He waves his hands. "Aren't you people sick of me already?"

"Don't think that's possible." Bucky says. "The new Captain America is pretty charming I've heard."

"Oh yeah? And where'd you hear that?"

"Eh, I know a guy."

Sam laughs and gives Bucky a warm smile. A real one, not one anyone could ever capture on any magazine or cover. One that only Bucky gets to see here, in this small space that they share. One that makes his chest constrict and cuts off his breathing.

Bucky files it away to dream about later.

Except he doesn't really get the chance to, because then Sam asks, "Bucky, what are we exactly?"

Bucky stops cutting into his steak. He was not expecting Sam to ever ask this question, much less be the one to bring it up. He puts his silverware down.

"I--- What do you mean?" Bucky plays dumb, because maybe he can get out of the conversation fast enough so they could ignore it entirely. He wasn't ready to rip his heart out yet, not ready at all.

Sam frowns slightly. "I mean this." He gestures to the dinner, to the both of them.

"I cook all the time." Bucky finishes his last bite, then gets up from the table. He grabs his plate, rinsing it off and sets it in the sink.

"You cooked on an off day." Sam continues, leaving the table to join him at the sink. Bucky takes his dishes from his hands and rinses them too.

He shrugs, turning off the faucet. "So what?"

"And you got me flowers. My favorites."

Bucky turns to him. "I was just being---"

He never finishes. Sam gently takes Bucky’s face in his hands, craning his neck ever so slightly to press their lips together. For a split second, Bucky doesn’t know how to react, just makes a small noise of surprise. Then when he finally comes to his senses, he kisses Sam back.

Everything locks into place. Every little hesitation, every moment they wasted disappears and is instead replaced by this fraction of time between them. A fraction of time where Sam’s lips are on his, soft and inviting just like the rest of him.

He brings his hand up to the nape of Sam’s neck. Sam takes that as a sign to deepen the kiss, tilting his head and drawing out a sigh from Bucky.

Sam is the first to pull away, putting a hand on Bucky's chest. "So that's what we are." He says lightly.

Bucky just blinks back at him.

It's in this moment that Bucky finally comes to the realization that in one way or another, Sam has always had a hold on his heart. That Sam received it willingly and gracefully a long time ago, without Bucky ever knowing. And in that same way, Bucky received Sam’s, taking care of it and loving him with everything he had.

"Is it too early to say that I love you?" Bucky asks, hands moving to Sam's waist. Sam's arms wrap around his neck loosely. He shakes his head.

"I think we've been waiting long enough." Sam replies and that's all Bucky needs before he leans down to kiss him again.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i just really love these two, feel free to leave a comment or anything! this is also unbetaed so sorry for anything weird, but i'm impatient. 
> 
> follow meret on twitter: [meret](https://twitter.com/faiconswinter)
> 
> follow mak on twitter: [mak](https://twitter.com/captsamwiIson)
> 
> check out my [twitter](https://twitter.com/tazisthemaster) and [tumblr](https://xandars.tumblr.com)


End file.
